Perfectly Imperfect

About a year ago (well, who knows really when it was, sounds like a good way to start....) I sat in our pediatrician's office waiting for our appointment.  I found myself flipping through parent magazines, which in of itself was strange because it was probably the first time in 8 years I didn't spend the entire waiting time following an inpatient toddler around who was determined to explore the ins and outs of germ-infested doctor offices.  I started scanning the "advice" given by both professionals and parents.  I examined the pictures in both advertisements and articles.  And two ideas popped into my head...1) I cannot relate to this,  and 2) no wonder I was so anxious when I was pregnant with Sam and in his first year of life.  These magazines painted this incredibly unrealistic picture of what being a mom entails and literally looks like.  Perfect discipline, perfect nutrition that must be paired with cutesy presentation of all major food groups, stylish clothes for the whole family. Disneyworld and Beaches resort vacations.  And everyone must be smiling.  Always.

Throughout my grad school years friends and strangers (but oddly, no family members ;-) commented on me being "Super Mom" and I had to shy away from those comments....I just didn't see it (or don't see it).  In fact, I'd argue that all of my mom friends are "Super".  This idea of "Super Mom" or being "Magazine Perfect" is in contradiction with my life.  Evidence:
1.  Noah's hair.  Seriously.  He's the nutty professor in a 6 year-old body. I know it needs cut.  And yes, I know I sent him to school with it that way (and yes, I tried to tame it at the door of the school building this a.m. by patting it down with my own spit on my hand).  The fact that I wasn't bothered when the before school staff told me that Noah had read the word "Ass" out loud because another student wrote it in sidewalk chalk was probably icing on the cake for that person.  In fact, I probably looked proud that my former non-reader had such great word decoding skills.  And I'm not entirely convinced that the other student who wrote the word was not Sam.  I didn't even ask.  I was late for work.  Nodding and smiling about the situation was all I had to offer.
2.  Is Little Ceasar's pizza a food group?
3.  I've worn the same black pants alllllllll week.  And I'm not apologizing.
4.  My self-talk.  Do other mom's do this??  Do other mom's have phrases that they just keep in their head...but the fact that they are there, may be disturbing if other people knew?  For instance, every time I hear my children whine, I think "Every time you whine an angel loses its wings".  I don't SAY it.  But I think it.  And it makes me at least smile on the inside.  And that's really just the surface of my self-talk catch phrases.  So, if while my child is whining, you're thinking I'm pondering strategies to positively direct my child into appropriate behavior.....think again.  I'm taking my mommy-self on a vacay to Florida where only me and ONLY me sits on a beach with a big fat margarita.  Where I don't have to think about the poor angels losing their wings.
5.  My house is clean.  When I have visitors.  Neighbors:  please don't randomly stop by because it ain't pretty.   It's not uncommon for me to take a step back, look at my kitchen, and think "Thank goodness this is not a restaurant  because the Health Department would Shut. This. Down.  And to think that's where I lovingly prepare beautiful, crafty meals for four cherubs and doting husband.

And I don't say this to encourage us to all be Slacker-Moms.  That's not the case at all.  I'm saying this because I think we need to give ourselves a bit of a break.  Ultimately, all of my kids are growing up in a home where despite our flaws, they know they are loved.  They know that God loves them.  They know that  at the end of the day they may not have the fanciest clothes or the fanciest toys or awesome vacations....but they have me.  All of me.  The flaws and the fun.  The sad and the happy.  The frizzy hair and the wide smile.  (The squishy arms and the stinky feet...really, folks, we could go on forever ;-)  The point is....as their parents WHO we are is sufficient enough.  Perfectly imperfect.

Celebrating Teachers

Last night I made a Facebook post in reflection of my child's chromosome disorder and the effect that has had on his learning and development and how we've witnessed his teachers truly rise to the occasion of  not only meeting his needs, but nurturing his growth.  I received several thoughtful comments on my FB page so I've decided to extend some of my thoughts here....

I've had the fortunate experience of examining education from multiple angles: student, teacher, government employee, parent, researcher, and now, pre-service teacher-trainer.  I've had the opportunity to do both hard work and deep reflection from each of these angles and I've come to this conclusion:  Teachers amaze me.  

From the student's perspective...I loved, loved, loved school.  I would count the days down from summer break to school just waiting for the smell of textbooks and newly-waxed floors.  I think if I could by a candle that said "first day of school smell" I would stock-up without hesitation.  And it wasn't because of my friends that I loved school (though you are all very great!).  We moved quite a bit in my childhood so my friendships did not remain constant from year-to-year, but what did remain from year-to-year was some pretty awesome teachers who taught me not only how to read, but how to love to read.  They taught me how to write, type, think, sing, disagree.....the list of the skills and dispositions I got out of my education...the list that makes me, well, me....goes on and on.  And it wasn't necessarily the latest and greatest teaching strategy that made the most impact on my education, but the willingness of my teachers to establish relationships with me.  This sleepy Saturday morning, I celebrate the teachers who nurtured my growth:  Mrs. Sackett, Mrs. Witzel, Mrs. Meinecke, Mrs. Menning, Miss Caston, Mr. Peterson...and even the teachers who were never officially my "teachers" but still took the time to get to know me, like Mr. Maxwell and Mrs. Lubeck.  It's impossible to name all of the teachers and school staff who made an impact on my growth, and I fear this post will fall-short in the list of the teachers I should never stop thanking.  

From the teacher's perspective I've gotten to know many dedicated, hard-working, and incredible teachers.  I observed teachers who loved their content areas and loved their students, and when I saw those two passions intersect they created heart-bursting, eye-popping learning environments.  Did I see some non-examples of good teaching?  Absolutely.  And could those non-examples shape and disturb the educational experiences of the children and families involved?  Absolutely, I don't neglect to recognize those experiences have and do occur, and I'm very much concerned for the children and families involved.  But from inside the school, looking out, I don't want the small percentage of non-examples to overshadow the teachers who radiate in their noble profession.  I can't even begin to name the teachers I've met in my career that I simply love.  But I will take the time to celebrate my teacher-friend Jan Westrum who I got to be neighbors with in our school building.  I'm pretty sure I've never told her "thanks" for being the teacher-model that I very much needed in my life.  She modeled an open-door policy for ALL students and teachers, a drive to continue growing in content knowledge and pedagogy, and a true and unfailing care for each student in her room, regardless of gifts and background.  She also modeled positive colleague relationships and professional behavior all while maintaining a sense of humor and a sense of fun.  I still think it would be pretty awesome to be Jan when I grow up.  

From the state-government employee perspective, I can't help but to be astounded that teachers remain in the profession as long as they do.  I don't mean to say this to be negative on our state and federal government, but the ever-changing climates of our political system have an impact on our educational system that I can only compare to a silent avalanche.  Those on the outer bounds may not even know the impact of legislative change or policy change, but the teachers and programs impacted must quickly dig themselves out of the frequent chaos and push forward, all while maintaining a calm, "business-as-usual" demeanor to assure they don't upset the climate in their schools.  Teachers feel the direct blows from the constant collision of the federal government, state government, regional systems, school districts, teachers unions, and school boards more than any of us.  And to my former colleagues working in the state and regional system,  your work is also amazing.  Working to assure quality and equitable education for each and every child in our state is no easy task, but I want those who are "down on our government employees" to know that each and every person I worked with at the Dept. of Ed has a level of work-ethic and dedication that would be difficult to beat. 

Before I leave this blog entry, I have to speak from a parent's perspective.  I have had to advocate for my son, and at times, challenge our school system to "try again" in their services to Noah.  I've had maddening and frustrating experiences. But I'm learning to not to let those isolated experiences paint the picture of my child's past or future in education.  (Notice I said "learning" not "I have arrived"...).  I started this journey with a "worst case scenario" disposition and have since realized that Noah's teachers have rose to the occasion of not only meeting his needs, but nurturing his growth.  I sat in a meeting once with a teacher in tears because she did not know how to "un-lock" his reading skills.  She wasn't in tears because she thought he was lazy and didn't know what to do.  She was in tears because she wanted him to read so badly and felt overwhelmed by her responsibility for my son.  She never stopped trying to find just the right "key" for him.  And she did find it.  She collaborated with a teacher and began a reading program that engaged Noah in not only letters/words, but in pictures, body movements, sound cues, etc. It was much more support than a "typical" learner but they did it anyway because they cared for him.  Yesterday I found out that he started out first grade reading at a higher level than expected for a beginning first grader and that he is on target for maintaining that growth.  I cried.  Our new school doesn't know how hard he's worked and the amount of dedication put forth by his teachers and parents since he was 10 months old.  But I know.  And it made me weep.  

Yes.  As a teacher-trainer, researcher, and systemic-thinker I think we have a long ways to go in teacher preparation.  But that's the beauty of the field of Education.  We will never arrive.  Our children and families will be constantly changing as our society and culture evolves.  We will never arrive. But there's no one more dedicated to keep trudging through this insane jungle than the teachers that have surrounded me, and more importantly, that are surrounding my children.